Burnt
by Ravyntree
Summary: Held captive by the SE organization, with no hope for escape. What would you do if the one you hated most were in charge of your fate..?
1. Morning Call

****Author's Note****

**So. I have received some beautiful feedback from you the readers and so here is a revised version. This story gave me quite a bit of hassel over the weeks spent mulling it over and actually attempting to write it… but here it is, chapter uno completed and ready for your criticism. Enjoy, my lads and lassies.**

He sat, eyes locked on the camera set before him, feeling the burn on his wrists from when he had fought the handcuffs locked tightly around them. The room was empty, save for the chair he was secured to and the camera on its tripod. Behind him was a door and a mirrored window through which he knew he was being observed. The walls were of simple off-white plaster over concrete blocks, the floor smooth, flecked cement. The ceiling was made of cheap tile panels resting on crosshairs of support. He was slightly unnerved by the four small sprinklers set between the sunken lights on the ceiling.

He watched the red light pulsing slowly on the top of the camera and wondered what it meant. Was it on, or on standby? He didn't know much about the technology here. Who was watching the feed? Why was he even here, in the hands of these.. creatures. These aliens. What did they want with him?

He had been here what he safely assumed to be two days, fixed to this chair with no contact, food, or rest. They had caught him three days ago and questioned him mercilessly the first day, threatening him with physical punishment if he did not comply with their needs. He glanced over his shoulder at the mirrored window, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. His face alone bore the marks of their beatings; a swollen, bruising eye, split lip, and lacerations across his cheeks. He flicked his antenna and felt a twinge of numb pain through one that had been crumpled at some point. He was always so careful about his antenna, too. So protective.

The invader looked back to the camera, his crimson eyes narrowed to slits. Perhaps they were trying to break his spirit, or weaken him, and he refused to let on how tired and hungry he was. While his PAK sustained him whereas he did not require sleep, he still needed to rest his body and mind for a few hours each night to regenerate his energy, much like humans do but in a more literal way.

A sound behind him broke his stare-off with the camera lens. He glances over his shoulder again, watching as an agent stepped inside and showed in a familiar human. He narrowed his eyes further.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Agent Mothman?"

"What?" Dib mumbled into the phone as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Glancing at his watch he saw that it was six in the morning.

"We have something that may interest you."

"At this time of morning?"

"We have captured and are holding in custody what we believe to be an alien."

Dib's eyes widened and he swung to the edge of the bed, grabbing socks with his free hand and trying to jerk them on.

"An alien? No shit?"

"Yes, an alien. We thought that since this seems to be your obsession, we would invite you to come down and have a look."

"Yeah, I'll be right there." Dib hung up and hurriedly got dressed and pulled his boots on. An alien. After all these years of trying to expose Zim, they had finally found an alien. He wondered where this one came from as he grabbed his dad's keys, jotted down a note to his sister, and ran out to the car. The Professor wouldn't mind; he was at work. Dib had been using his car since he first got his license at sixteen, and after three years he thought of it as his own car now anyway.

He pulled from the driveway in the early morning sun and began his two-hour drive to the Swollen Eyeball's headquarters, downtown.


	2. And 0ld Foe

****Author's Note** Again, this is a revised version.**

After seizing a parking space close to the door, Dib rushed in and paused only to speak to the receptionist.

"I am Agent Mothman," he said, showing her his SE ID card. "I was called about an alien?"

"Yes Agent, just follow this hall to the stairs. You want room 211 on the second floor," she replied.

"Thanks." Dib trotted up to the second floor and pushed the door open. He spotted another agent down the hall a ways, staring into one room. The entire floor was observational rooms, all of which were empty except the one.

The man glanced up at Dib as he moved towards the room and smiled.

"Agent Mothman," he nodded a greeting. "I am Agent Sandman, though when not around the higher-ups I prefer to addressed by my real name; Matt."

Dib nodded in return and looked into the room, asking, "What do we have here?"

"An alien, it seems. We haven't gotten any information from him," Matt replied, opening the small notepad in his hands and tucking the pencil behind his ear. "Just that he is 'normal', apparently." He chuckles. "He likes to scream. 0r at least he did, before we silenced him with some special measures."

"He's an Irken," Dib said, seeing the alien's green head and antenna. He wondered for a moment if perhaps they had Zim, but didn't see how it could be so. He hadn't sent in any reports in the last six months because Zim had disappeared one day, half a year ago. GIR, too was missing, as well as anything of real interest at Zim's house. No, this couldn't be Zim.. he was gone. Back to Irk, perhaps.

"An Irken?" Matt glanced up curiously.

"It's a race of aliens. I have sent you information on them."

"Ah, yes. We have yet to look over your files."

"Can I go in to see him?" Dib asked, needing to sate his curiosity.

"Be my guest." Matt stepped over to the door and opened it, stepping in. Dib followed, hearing the door close and lock behind him as he moved towards the alien. Matt walked behind him.

Dib stepped around the chair and his eyes widened when the familiar magenta eyes lifted slightly to his presence.

"But.. this is the one! This is the alien I have been trying to show you," he looked up at Matt in surprise.

"Is he?" Matt asked, uninterested.

"Yes, this is the one." Dib crouched before Zim to look at his face and grinned.

"Well, Zim, how does it feel now that you are in our grasp?"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""

Zim glared at Dib, angry that his foe would see him in such a position, let alone be involved with his captivity.

Dib rose, smiling, and turned to the other agent.

"What has been done with him?"

"Not much, we brought him I just three days ago. He is highly uncooperative and aggressive, so he was placed here in the hopes that a few days without food and water will loosen him up a bit."

"He doesn't drink water," Dib replied, crossing his arms and looking down at Zim again. "It burns him, as if it were acid."

Matt raised a brow and wrote that down on the notepad he held.

"What else can you tell us about him?"

"A lot." Dib grinned, pleased both at being involved and at his enemy's capture.

"Good. Perhaps the higher-ups will put a nod in your favor on this one." Matt handed him the notepad and turned to leave. "Keep an eye on him. I'm going to go pull your files."

Dib nodded and leaned against the wall in front of Zim. The alien had never stopped glaring at him.

"Well," Dib said after reading Matt's pathetic notes. "You're really fucked now, aren't you?"

"Don't speak to me, human," Zim replied in a low voice.

"You have hell in for you if you are concerned just about me talking to you," he chuckled. "These guys are professionals. You are going to be turned into their science project."

"I will not be cowed by you," Zim growled, anger glinting in his eyes.

"We will see. Where have you been the past few months?"

"Away."

"Huh," Dib smirked. "Fascinating. Gone back to your little planet? Earth too rough for you?"

"Shut up Dib-fuck," Zim snarled, his antennae flattening in the way a cat's ears does when angered. "Your lack of knowledge betrays just how little you actually think about your existence."

Dib raised a brow at the statement, but laughed and shook his head.

"You amuse me, alien. You amuse me.."


	3. Hell

****Author's Note** 0h, and I do apologize for the short chapters. I am merely trying to get the beginnings of this story out there so my readers will have something to chew on while I am working on the rest of the story. It may be awhile until the next post.**

Dib and Zim sat in silence until Matt returned a short time later, one smirking away and the other staring fixedly on the camera again, ignoring his fate.

"Well, I found twenty boxes of files, papers, and notes," Matt announced, walking up to Dib with his hands clasped behind his back. "We will have to sort through them."

Zim threw a hate-filled look up at Matt, wanting nothing more than to tear his face from his skull. He hated everything about him; the long blonde hair tied in a ponytail behind his back, the navy-blue business suite he wore, the polished black shoes. He looked like what the human's would call a prick, and his treatment of Zim hadn't proved him otherwise.

Dib nodded and glanced down at Zim. "Let me ask, how did you capture him?"

"Well, we received a call about an odd being lurking about a neighborhood just the east side of town. We figured it was just some crazy homeless guy or some kid messing around, but sent someone to check it out anyway."

"Did they say if he had a dog or a robot with him?"

"They didn't, why?"

"He has an android slave that serves him. It's standard Irken invader issue. His is defective though."

Matt raised a brow, partially impressed with Mothman's knowledge and partially skeptical that he had spent so much time studying one being, alien or not.

"Right, well, we will get it if it's out there."

"Right." Dib looked back to Zim and tilted his head. "What are you to do with him now?"

"I was hoping you would ask that," Matt replied. "Come to my office with me. We will go over the procedures that have been assigned for him."

The two agents turned and exited the room, leaving Zim under the burning lights. They were no brighter than ordinary lights, but the white walls were reflecting it and making the room almost unbearably hot and bright. He was suffering under it more than a human would, because it was always considerably colder on Irk than this planet, and he was not cloned with the ability to sweat or expel heat.

He closed his eyes a brief moment, though not too long for he feared falling into rest. He now understood the meaning of 'hell'.


	4. Visionary

Zim lifted his head when someone entered the room and glanced over his shoulder at them. It was the Dib-shit. He looked away, irritated.

"Well Zim," he said, stepping up to the alien. "I have been placed in charge of your fate."

Zim looked up at him, the light in his crimson eyes shifting.

"This is going to be fun," Dib smiled.

"You will get nothing from me," Zim replied. He had been here nearly three days without food, drink, or rest, sitting under these glaring lights with absolutely nothing to do. He doubted anything Dib could do would be any worse than this.

"We will see." Dib stepped around the chair and released the restraint from one of Zim's wrists, allowing him to slip his arms around front and then binding them again there. He took a roll of ductape from his arm and grabbed Zim by the back of the neck, pushing him forward roughly.

"Don't struggle. They will put you down faster than you can blink," he said as he tore strips from the roll and began securing them over Zim's PAK.

"I will tear you apart, bit by little bit," the Irken hissed back, not moving but to glare at his captor. "Just you watch your back.."

"Because you are in such a position to do such, right?" Dib laughed and pushed the alien back against the chair, crossing his arms. "Get up."

Zim rose to his unimpressive height but refused to look up at Dib, glaring instead at the boy's throat. Such a vulnerable place on a human..

"Jesus, I've forgotten how short you are.. You haven't grown at all since hi-Skool, have you?"

Zim didn't reply, just glared. His time would come.

Dib gave his shoulder a push and he turned around, moving towards the door. Half-way there, he was struck across the back of the neck, the blow sending blindingly dazzling flashes through the Irken's head to his vision. He wavered and fell to his knees in surprise, dipping his head and closing his eyes quickly against the now painfully-bright lights of the room. A well-aimed kick sent him tumbling and he curled in slightly as he struck the floor, protecting his face and chest with his arms.

"Stop being so pathetic," Dib chuckled, nudging the alien with his boot. Zim clenched his teeth and sat up, forcing himself to his feet and glaring again at the boy's throat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being looked up to.

"Where is GIR?"

"I'm not telling you," Zim hissed.

Dib struck him across the face and his body rocked back from the force, but he didn't move.

"I asked you a question."

Antennae pinned, Zim bared his teeth in a fierce growl and attacked the boy, driving him to the floor with his body weight and striking at his face with his cuffed hands. Dib drove a punch into his stomach and threw him to the unyielding floor beside him, shifting to kneel atop him. Zim struggled, snapping like a trapped dog.

He choked as a strong, calculated hand slid around his throat and clenched ever so slightly. Dib leaned down, grinning.

"You are my bitch now, Zim. I have permission to do whatever the hell I so please with you. You're mine."

Zim looked up and met Dib's eye, so much passing between the simple contact and he knew it was true. Dib rose, dragging him up off the floor by the throat and setting him on his feet once again.

"Now, let's go. We have some activities planned for you."

Zim followed along with the human as he was led out the door, through the hall, and down the stairs. When they emerged in the lobby of the building, everyone stopped to look up at him. Zim felt his skin prick at all the human eyes on him as they crossed the room. Beside him, Dib seemed to be swelling with pride and contempt. He was in his own world; soaking in the admiration of his fellows as they realized something he had been waiting all his life for. That he was _right_.

Zim was relieved when they moved from the room into another hall. There were not so many people here, and the ones who were happened to all be wearing unnervingly white lab coats. Labs… not the dog, the experimental, prodding, alien-cutting kind. Sickening.

Dib opened a door and forcefully directed Zim inside.

"Sit down."

Zim took a moment to look around the room as he moved slowly towards a chair. There was so much to look at.. cabinets and a table, equipment and instruments all laid out so dauntingly, the chair with its restraints and some odd machine looming over it. He sat in the seat and looked down as Dib unfastened his cuffs and began strapping his wrists to the arms of the seat. His legs were restrained as well and Dib stepped back, smirking.

"How appropriate. How does it feel, alien?"

Zim shifted and squinted up at his mouth. "Feels just fine, human."

"Well good. We wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."

At that moment two men stepped into the room, donning their white coats and surgical masks.

Zim watched as they talked with Dib while pulling on latex gloves.. white to match their coats. Why is white such an intimidating color..?

Dib leaned against the wall by the door, crossing his arms with that same confident smirk.

'_0ne day,'_ Zim thought, narrowing his eyes. _'0ne day I will carve those lips right off his face.'_

The men came to him, talking among themselves as one took notes and their other listed off physical attributes of the Irken, much to Zim's secret awkwardness. The clipboard was set down and the man picked up something resembling a helmet. They returned to Zim and the man tapped one of his antennae. It twitched irritatedly at the contact and they did it again. Twitch again.

0ne of the men carefully took both antennae in hand and pulled them back. Zim tried to ignore it, but the pain was so intense that he soon found himself tilting his head back to accommodate. He growled and struggled against his restraints as the man lifted a small dropper in his other hand and squeezed two drops of liquid into each eye, holding the lids open for a brief amount of time to let the liquid settle. Zim tried to shake his head away from them, but they pulled on his delicate antennae harder and he was obliged to sit still.

The helmet was placed over his head, flattening his antennae against his skull uncomfortably. It fastened under his chin with a buckle and covered his skull and part of his face. Two pieces like eyesglasses were built onto it over his eyes and he blinked rapidly as soon as he was released. His eyes were dry and numb-feeling, and no tears came though he willed them to wash away whatever filthy Earth-product had invaded his eyes. He protested with growls and hisses as his head was secured in place by two metal pieces to either side of the chair, screwed into place until they fit snugly against his skull. His vision was blurred beyond any ability to see, which scared him but he kept his composure as the technicians examined his eyes through the magnifying glass on the helmet. They took notes.. so many notes.. and continued to talk to themselves in hushed voices.

Pigmentation, irises, reflective qualities.. things Zim didn't understand as he willed for it to be done with soon. His eyes were so dry he couldn't close them, for without any moisture the eyelids just scraped against the eye.

Soon, one of the men reached up and brought the machine down before Zim's face. They fixed it in place and stepped from the room, turning out the lights and making Dib step out with them. Using a control panel outside the door, they activated the machine. Two lasers began a slow scan of his eyes, the red slicing through his blurred vision uncomfortably, causing pain as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden light.

It ended none-too-soon and the small group returned, flicking back on the lights and lifting the machine away.

They removed the helmet and left for a few minutes to do god-knows what. Zim found that he could finally blink and close his eyes, but he still was blinded.

"Having fun?" Dib's voice cut like a knife, close to his face. He closed his vulnerable eyes and hissed.

"I thought so." Dib straightened from his lean down in the alien's face and wandered about the room, looking over the tools and such laid out with approval. He brought up the images from the scan on the computer, looking them over with interest while he awaited the technicians to return.

Zim released a sigh as quiet as he could manage and opened his eyes, twitching his aggravated antennae.

He was startled when the men returned to the room, talking and laughing as if they didn't care at all that what they were about to do—and what they had already done—was horrific and agonizing.

Dib returned to his place by the door and watched.

Zim glared at the men as he was just barely able to do, the numbing effect gradually wearing off. He would later wish it hadn't.

0ne of the men, whose name was Ypsa (Zim had gathered that much from their idle chat) picked up a small metal tray and set it on the cart near to the chair. He pushed it closer and Zim's chair was leaned back slowly, to his startled alarm.

"Dib," the other man said, "Care to watch? This is your find, after all."

"Don't mind if I do," Dib replied, stepping over and taking up residence behind the seat, again against the wall.

Zim blinked rapidly, trying to see what was happening as an object was lifted from the tray and brought near to his face. Something was slid under the eyelids of his right eye, clicking into place and holding it open. He didn't wait to see what was going on. Zim began to struggle, fighting the unyielding restraints and shaking his head, wanting to be free of the devise that was so firm against his eyelids.

"Hold it still," Ypsa instructed. The other man placed a hand over Zim's forehead and another on his chest and held him still, ignoring his uselessly flailing hands.

Again, something was lifted and brought to his face. He paused a moment, not wanting to hurt himself.

He watched with horror and growing clarity as a scalpel hovered over his eye. He snarled as it was scraped carefully over the surface. Pain bloomed in the wake of the blade and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming.

The man deposited his sample carefully onto a glass slide and covered it with tape, handing it to the other and removing the device from Zim's eye. He blinked rapidly and spat at the men. They recoiled, obviously fearful of his alien germs.

"Get the fuck away from me!" he snarled. They ignored his words, much to his further enragement. He renewed his struggles, fighting against the buckles that held him so firmly against the chair.

"Alright, we are done here," Ypsa said, removing his gloves carefully and depositing them into a toxic box. They left the room with the notes and 'sample', talking again in that 'scientific voice'.

Dib nodded and stepped forward, taking the cuffs from his pocket and crossing his arms before Zim.

"Calm down, it's not helping," he said to the still-struggling alien. Zim sighed and watched as he released him from the chair only to bind his wrists together again.

"I hate you," he hissed at the boy.

"A mutual feeling. Let's go, we have so much more for you.." Dib grinned.


End file.
